Got my drink and my goose-step.

It's always when you're running late
or in a rush in general
that something further foils your progress.
Today it came in the form of a schoolbus
pulling out in front of me
on my way home from work
during my Friday Commute 500
to a much needed shower and nap.

The bus slowed and turned on its yellow
blinkers to alert me to the fact
that small children could soon become
potential speedbumps if I did not pay attention.
I turned the stereo up a notch and tried
to sing along again, but my throat was too dry.
It took forever for the two kids to step down
from the bus. They must've been sitting in
the coveted back seat, where brats made faces
at cars through the rear emergency door
and cool kids flashed cigarette packs and shared
the facts of life with shocked peers.

These two boys were too young for that brand of corruption--
probably seven and eight, or six and seven.
I could tell that they were brothers by their faces
and the camouflage jackets that they both wore.
It brought me back to the days when I used to
dress up and play army in the woods.
For a second I smiled as I watched the older brother
raise his knees and lead the way
in an overly dramatic march towards his house.
He must not have heard his little brother's footsteps
as loudly as he would've liked to, though;
as if suddenly possessed by the soul of a drill instructor
he spun around on his heels and commanded
his assumed inferior to march harder, louder, with more feeling.
I saw crow's feet appear above his mouth and a vein
pop out in his neck. He'd instantly aged twenty years
shedding his naive innocence to become something ugly.
My stomach rolled inside itself, and it wasn't last night's rum.
The younger boy frowned and lifted his little feet higher.
Their mother opened the front door and told them
to hurry up and get inside already so the two of them
gave up their drills for the day and ran to their house
like children are supposed to.

World War III hasn't happened yet, but when it does
we'll be ready whether we want to or not.
I hope I'm dead and gone before I have to bury
any toy soldiers like the ones I saw today.

And in case you're wondering
I wasn't late for my shower and nap.
I was early.
I always am.